You were the most beautiful 4-cell embryo I’ve ever seen. All the medical staff, doctor, nurse, embryologist, were so excited how perfect you looked. With perfectly defined and symmetrical little cells, developing and growing just at the right time. I, however, already loved you even before I saw you.
While I carried you, I let my mind run wild with dreams. Dreams of holding you, kissing every part of your little body, breastfeeding you and rocking you to sleep. I even knew which songs I’d sing to you and which stories I wanted to read. I thought about your nursery and your cute little clothes. I imagined you crawling in the floor and sleeping on dad’s chest. These dreams kept me going, kept me strong and hopeful.
No more hopes and dreams now, it’s time to say goodbye.
As I used to tell you every morning and every night, I’ll always love you, no matter what happens, and I’ll always carry you in my heart, together with your three siblings.
I’ll never forget you.
Note 1: I wrote this for myself and wasn’t sure I should post it publicly. It’s very personal to me, and even though I know not everyone sees their early pregnancies as babies, I hope you can all respect my feelings and my coping mechanisms. Everyone copes the best they can.
Note 2: We nickname each one of our babies. This one we used to call Little Seashell, because he (she) was conceived in a warmer than average August, so warm we were able to go to the beach and even swim in the water several times.